Remembering Grant Ward
by AshenWhisper
Summary: Post season 1. Fitz has amnesia, and nothing has jogged his memory. In a desperate attempt, Coulson takes him to meet Ward... But things go awry quickly as Fitz comes face to face with his attempted killer. 2 Parts, T for some almost-violence and mentions of murder. Fitz& Ward focus, no ships, just Fitz trying to figure out who Ward used to be to him. Angstiness and yelling ensues.
1. Introduction

**Hey guys! I was thinking the other day about Fitz's unwaivering faith in Ward, and how interesting it would be to see him interacting with Ward again, even if he doesn't remember him. So this happened. Sorry for some clunky writing in the beginning, it's hard writing background when someone barely remembers themselves :P This will be split into 2 chapters. Rated T for mentions of murder and minor violence. Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!**

* * *

Fitz sat up in bed, waiting for Agent Coulson to return. Or, the man that introduced himself as an agent named Coulson. Not like he'd remember, anyway. He let out a frustrated breath. Fitz had never been a particularly patient man, and having to relearn so much information that was meaningless to him was frustrating. Partially just because he knew it_ should_ matter. The sympathetic looks from people he'd been told was his team _should_ have moved him. But they were strangers. He remembered his name, vaguely remembered what S.H.I.E.L.D. had been, but besides that… he was lost.

Amnesia. He'd woken up from the coma and been told by doctors – not S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors, he'd been told - that he was going to be back to normal soon. But when he asked who the nurse helping the doctor was, and why was she was grinning at him, a horrified silence fell over his hospital room. She'd rushed out, and he'd been asked question after question he couldn't answer. And soon the word 'amnesia' was floating around, along with whispers of "someone has to tell Dr. Simmons," and "poor Dr. Simmons."

The doctors were confident that it would go away soon. They told Fitz that his memory could be jogged by something, or it would just come back gradually. And told him that he had five visitors.

Agent Coulson was the first person Fitz met, and definitely the most positive. He told Fitz a story that felt foreign to him, about a young engineering genius who was also a secret agent. About how he joined a team of five other people, including his best friend. He also mentioned that one wasn't around anymore, but he'd "explain all of that later." It was a nice story, but that's what it felt like; a story. But he just nodded along, trying to take in all of it. Later, he met people named May, Trip, and Skye; the last of which he awkwardly received a hug from the second she walked in. He knew not to introduce himself, but could tell the people felt strange telling him their names. He did meet Dr. Simmons eventually, who introduced herself as Jemma. She didn't stick around long, starting to cry towards the end of talking to him. And she was indeed the nurse that had smiled at him. He didn't recognize her, but boy, she was beautiful.

He had wondered if this was the person Coulson had called his best friend.

Right now Coulson was the only one he really felt comfortable around. He had a friendly but honest voice, and was patient with Fitz. He'd been talking with Fitz about taking a trip out of the hospital, and Fitz was waiting eagerly for him to come back and say that it was happening. He'd been dying to stretch his legs and get out of this hospital.

And soon, Coulson was coming down the hallway. But he wasn't alone. May, the one that had been quiet and had little to say when she checked on him, was next to him. The door opened, and Fitz sat himself up, careful of his arm. It was in a cast, and the doctors said it was healing well and had let him take walks around the facility. Still, he wasn't taking any chances.

"Agent Coulson," He addressed him, then glanced at Agent May.

"We're going, Fitz," The Agent's tone was less than excited, and he noticed May was looking down. "You've been cleared. Fitz, there's…" He paused. "There's someone you haven't seen yet, and I think… Seeing him may jog a memory. And if not, May and I would like to speak to him about your condition."

Fitz nodded and stood up. "At least tell him who it is," May said, almost pretending Fitz wasn't in the room.

"If he doesn't remember him, I'm not addressing it right now. He has enough to worrying about without that." Coulson turned for the door. Fitz could tell from their tones that the two of them had been arguing, but he said nothing. It felt like a strangers' fight to him. May gestured to Fitz, who hurried after the two of them.

"Where are we going?" Fitz asked as they walked down the corridor.

"One of the few remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. strongholds. It's been converted into a prison facility." Coulson said.

"A prison?!" Fitz's voice cracked. "Sir, I'm not sure I want to have a meet and greet with a prisoner of S.H.I.E.L.D. right now."

He thought he saw a small smirk cross May's features as Coulson continued. "You won't have to talk to anyone. I just want you to see him, in case you remember something. Simmons needs us to try." Fitz wanted to ask about that last part, but Coulson's glance to May told him that it was more to her than him. "The flight's barely an hour, and the rest of the team's at a base on assignment. We can show you around your old lab while we fly." Coulson smiled at him, and he gave him an attempt at a smile back.

* * *

Coulson was right, the flight wasn't long. He spent part of it being shown around the huge plane by Coulson. The man kept giving him hopeful looks after saying things like "Here's your holo-table," and "You and Simmons used to eat lunch at this counter together sometimes," but Fitz recognized none of it. So, eventually, he'd left Fitz alone in the lab.

Walking through it, he felt like some sort of ghost who couldn't remember his life, but was stuck in the building he'd lived in. He opened cabinets, played with vials and the holo-table, looked through data and projects and blueprints, but nothing seemed familiar. Just a lab. Someone else's lab.

But deep down, he knew Agent Coulson wasn't lying to him. This had been his. Even if it looked like someone else's workspace, or some random lab, it was his. He swallowed, putting his hand down on the holo-table. _I'll remember it soon. _He hoped. But he wasn't sure he believed it.

May and Coulson appeared from the doorway. "Ready?" Coulson asked.

Fitz nodded, and followed the two out of the plane and to the huge building.


	2. The Breakout

**Thanks for sticking through the first chapter! This one's going to be the bulk of the story and ending. Let me know what you think! Hopefully my characterization was alright, it was my first time writing for these two.**

* * *

The first sign of trouble was the front desk. Where there should have been a guard, there was a man slumped over his desk. For a moment Coulson froze, then he ran over to the man, putting two fingers to the neck. He looked up, his eyes wide. "What the hell."

May looked back at Fitz. "Stay close." Coulson pulled out his gun, and the two headed down a corridor. He rushed after them.

Fitz could feel his heart pounding. Maybe this had been normal for him before, but all he knew was that he had a broken arm and virtually no fight training. Luckilly, for the first few halls, there was nothing. All of the prisoners were in their cells, like nothing had happened.

"We should find Ward," May said to the two of them. "If there's been a breakout, Hydra's likely behind it."

"What ward? Like the psych ward?" Coulson and May didn't respond to Fitz's question, but shared a glance. "Were we headed to the psych ward?!"

"He might know something," May continued.

Fitz put a hand up. "Me?! I don't know anything, I promise!"

"Quiet, Fitz." Coulson gave him a look. "It's worth a shot. Cell 212."

The two of them started off again. Fitz rolled his eyes. They wouldn't tell him anything.

At first, the second floor was the same as the first. Lots of bulky looking guys in cells, some that would yell and others that took no notice. They weren't in prison uniforms, since the place wasn't originally a prison and S.H.I.E.L.D., as Coulson had mentioned, was in shambles. As the three agents got closer to 212, they slowed. Fitz glanced around, nervous. In 210, a man was laying asleep on the cot. 211, unlike most cells, held two people, one pacing and other sitting on the cot with a hood up. Nothing out of the ordinary.

They got to 212, and May took in a sharp breath. Fitz could see from behind her that the door was wide open, and no one was inside.

"Alright, we need to get back downstairs and call for back-up." Coulson said, looking to May. "Trip can contact Hill and-"

They heard the door opening too late. May and Coulson turned just as Fitz got yanked backwards. Before he could do anything, someone had his arm around his throat. He was held tightly against the prisoner.

"May, Coulson," The two of them looked at whoever held Fitz, eyes wide. Coulson trained his gun on him. "Nice to see you again."

"This could be very simple, Ward," Coulson said, feigning confidence. _Ward. They meant a person._ Fitz thought. "Pass him over to us, nice and easy, and your sentence won't be increased. Just get back in your cell."

Fitz cringed as his grip tightened a bit. "Not going to happen." The voice was dark, rough, and completely strange to him. Suddenly he heard a noise next to him, and caught sight of a knife coming near to his throat. He closed his eyes tightly, starting to panic. "Let me and my men leave, and I won't hurt Fitz."

"Please, don't hurt me, please," Fitz whined quietly. _He knew my name._

Coulson looked from Fitz to the man. Then, he slowly put his hands up.

"Put the gun on the floor and kick it over here." Coulson did as the man called Ward asked. "Good. Now stay right here until we're clear of the premises, or he dies."

Fitz gave Coulson a pleading look.

"Go." Coulson took a submissive step back. May looked from him to Fitz, then took a step back.

"Move out." Fitz was turned, released, then shoved forward. He stumbled a bit, but stayed up. He realized that the man wasn't alone. Three others, the pacing man, the one that had been lying down, and another were all out.

And Fitz was their prisoner.

The man moved around to walk next to Fitz, the knife still in his hand. The engineer snuck a glance up at him. Ward was tall, probably at least 6'2". He had dark almost black hair, a noticeably square jawline, a face covered in stubble and a long scar across one cheek. He looked down at Fitz. "Wasn't sure you'd make it out." His tone wasn't as harsh any more, but wasn't particularly gentle either.

"I… What?"

The man looked away from Fitz, his tone almost… guilty. "The pod."

Fitz's eyes widened. "How did you know about that?"

He rolled his eyes. "Come on Fitz, what are you playing at?" He looked straight at him.

"Are you the man they were taking me to?" He asked cautiously. "Is your name Ward?"

They headed down the stairs, Fitz in the middle of the group, Ward still next to him. "Very funny."

For a while, Fitz didn't say anything else. He wasn't sure what to say. They snuck out a side entrance, and made for a smaller plane that had been waiting for them. When they got aboard it was empty, and Fitz realized quickly that Ward was the one giving the orders. He brought Fitz to a holding cell, closed and locked the door, and walked off.

* * *

Fitz had been in the cell for a while when the door opened again. He looked up. It was Ward.

"We're going to touch down in a couple of hours," He announced, "and I'm gonna drop you off. I mean," For some reason, Ward looked suddenly flustered with his choice of words. "Let you go. We're going to let you go." He looked away from Fitz.

"O-okay," Fitz replied, relieved. For a moment, the two men stared at each other. Fitz was looking at a stranger, dressed in black, violent, and having just kidnapped him. All of the other people he'd met had been friendly and come by his hospital room. This man was hostile, and had taken him prisoner. And yet, supposedly, he'd known him.

Ward closed the door behind him, and strode into the room. Fitz stayed sitting on the bench. Ward sat at the bench on the other side of the cell, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up, locking eyes with his prisoner. "Where's the team, Fitz?"

"Th- The team?" He echoed, confused.

"Yes. The team." He but a sting into the words, annunciating them. "Where are they?"

Fitz looked down. "I dunno."

"Yes you do." He replied quickly.

He narrowed his eyes, surprised. "No, I don't!"

"Sure," Ward said sarcastically. "Look, Fitz, I know you." He raised his eyebrows, trying to connect with Fitz. "I know you like acting all heroic. But that's over now. You don't have any defense, and I could hurt you." He stood up. "Just tell me where the team is."

"I don't know, honestly!" He put a hand up in a sort of surrender. "Some hospital somewhere."

Ward flicked out a knife. Fitz took in a sharp breath, eyes wide. Ward's tone was dark. "Tell me where they are, Fitz."

"About an hour away by plane, at a non-S.H.I.E.L.D. hospital." He spat out quickly. "That's all I know, I swear!" Ward moved towards him, glaring. Fitz pushed himself up against the wall, his face reflecting the fear in his voice. "I have amnesia, Ward, I can't remember!"

"Oh, please!" Ward's eyes were murderous as he grabbed Fitz's collar and pulled him to his feet. "Really funny, Fitz. Just tell me!" There was no response, just Fitz shaking in his grip. "Look," Fitz met his eyes, and they slowly started to lose their edge. "I don't want to hurt you. Hut I need to know where they are." He spoke slowly. "Okay? So tell me."

"I'm being honest," Fitz gave him a pleading look. "I was without oxygen for too long, someone pulled me up through 90 feet of water!" Ward's eyes showed his disbelief, but he kept going. "The doctors think I'll remember, but right now I don't remember anything, I swear! I just met some agents, and I know I was with S.H.I.E.L.D. and that I might've known you."

"_Might_ have known me?" He didn't loosen his grip, still holding Fitz and the knife.

"I mean…" He furrowed his brow. "Coulson thought someone at the cell might remind me of past stuff, and you knew my name…" He gave him an honest look. "But I don't remember you."

For a moment neither of them moved. Ward just stared at him, considering him. Then he lowered the knife, and his expression began to soften. "You don't remember me." He said it numbly, confirming the information.

"No."

"You don't know... what I did?" His voice was quiet as he let go of Fitz.

He gave him a tentative smile. "Were we friends? Most of the people they introduced me to used to be my friends."

He narrowed his eyes and spoke quietly. "Stop." He put the knife back in his pocket.

"I mean, you were in a prison, so I suppose we probably weren't," He rambled, now that he felt safer. Ward looked away from him. "But I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. people can be harsh sometimes, maybe you were just a little too harsh or something."

"Fitz, stop talking."

"They did say there was someone they would talk to me about later, when I had less to worry about. Not sure who that was. I sure don't remember 'em. All I know is that I was trapped in a pod with someone, and someone helped me get out. Weird thing, huh, ending up at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Stop." His voice was quiet.

"Not really sure how I ended up there. Must've been pretty bad, though. I'm not sure why they didn't tell me about you, either and-"

"Because I PUT YOU THERE!" Ward shouted, angrilly lunging towards Fitz. Fitz slammed himself back into the wall, but Ward didn't touch him. Ward's hands were balled into tight fists.

Fitz took a second to breath. His eyes were wide as he stared at the glaring man. _He what? _"You," he swallowed. "You did what?" _It... it was him?!_

Ward looked down, unable to meet his eyes. His voice was lower, almost broken. "They didn't tell you about me… because I put you there."

"In… In the pod?"

"In the ocean." He looked up. "Garrett… I was ordered to kill you and Simmons."

"Simmons?" He narrowed his eyes. "But Simmons is alive."

"You were both in the pod." Fitz thought he saw a remorseful look cross his face for a second, then it disappeared. "And I ejected it from the plane while we flew over the ocean."

"You… you did it." Fitz looked down. "And Simmons was there with me." His breathing was heavy while he tried to take in the information.

"Guess they wanted you to recover before worrying about details." Ward's tone was bitter, hurt. "Details like me." He took a step back, calmer now.

He narrowed his eyes. "But… why wait to tell me about you? Doesn't that mean that you're just some bad guy who tried to kill me? I mean, no offense," Ward let out a breath that' sounded almost like a chuckle. "But you knew my name."

Ward searched his eyes, as if deciding whether or not it was worth it. "They'll tell you later." His voice was low. "If you can't tell us where the hospital is, I'll be back soon to let you go." He headed for the door.

"You said… 'I know you.'" Fitz's words stopped him. "You said you know what I'm like." Ward glanced back at the puzzled engineer. "But you're not an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you couldn't have been my friend. Right? So... how?"

Ward stared at him for a moment. He took in a breath, then gave Fitz a sympathetic look. "I'm glad you survived." He said gently. Then he left.

* * *

Fitz spent his time in the cell wracking his brain over the information he'd just had thrown at him. Everything about Ward, about Simmons… He tried to put it together, to somehow magically remember what had happened that day before he was in a coma. But as time went on, he just became more frustrated. He knew he must have known Ward, somehow. But not knowing and being his prisoner infuriated him. HE had to find out. Somehow.

The door opened, and Ward stepped in. "Time to go." He had a gun in his hand.

Fitz stood up, and moved to the door. He paused in front of it. It was dangerous, but he had to know. And something told him Ward wouldn't hurt him. Using his un-injured arm, he closed the door in front of him.

"What are you doing, Fitz?" His voice was annoyed, but not frustrated.

"Tell me who you are." Fitz insisted.

"Fitz-"

Fitz turned suddenly, back against the door. "You say my name like Coulson does. Like you know me."

"You're imagining things." He looked past him, despite the closed door.

"I- If a random thug had tried to kill me, they wouldn't have taken me to see in case he jogged a memory." Ward looked back down at the scientist. "So we can leave once you tell me why they didn't tell me about you."

Ward frowned, and pointed his gun at Fitz. "We're leaving _now."_

He breathed, trying to sound confident as they locked eyes. "I know you won't kill me."

"Why not?" He raised his hands. "You don't know me! I tried to kill you before, didn't I?"

Fitz swallowed. "I don't know. Maybe because last time you were ordered to. I just…" He knotted his eyebrows. "I feel like you won't. So tell me why that is."

He looked at him, then slipped the gun into his belt. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"We need to leave before-"

"Why won't you just tell me?!" Fitz's frustration was unmasked.

He paused. "Because." He breathed, putting his arms down at his sides in surrender. "You were right. We used to be friends."

He pursed his lips. "I knew it." There was no victory in his tone. Ward gave him a disbelieving look. "Well, I guessed it, anyway." He looked at Ward, puzzled. "I don't understand though. Why was I friends with a member of Hydra?"

Ward smirked. "You didn't know, I…" He let out a breath, resigning to talk about it. "I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. because a man named Garrett convinced me to infiltrate them, and when I joined Coulson's team... You guys didn't know."

Fitz looked down, his voice quiet. "So you betrayed us." Fitz continued before he could defend himself. "Were we close?"

Ward swallowed, his tone lowering as well. "Pretty close, yeah."

Fitz let out a breath. "Then why did you-"

"Enough." Ward looked up. "It's time to go. Open the door, Fitz."

Fitz didn't want to press it further, and began to turn, figuring they could talk on the way out. But then he froze, mid-turn. _Open the door, Fitz._ _I know that. _"What?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"I said open the door." Ward's voice was confused. But Fitz's hand was frozen on the door handle. His eyes were wide, heart pounding.

"You've asked me that before." He muttered.

"Yeah, like two seconds ago."

"No." He shook his head, his words quick and panicked. "No, I was in the pod with Simmons, and…"

"Fitz-"

He turned, eyes still wide. "You. I- I fought for you, and believed in you." His voice was numb, reciting the information like it was someone else's lines on a script. "I thought you could be good. I wanted you to be good. And you… You dropped us."

Ward watched him, his mouth opening a bit, eyebrows angling up. Suddenly Fitz was remembering. Not everything, not yet. But he remembered the plane, and Ward. Joking around, hanging out, caring about each other. He remembered the warm feeling the first time Ward accepted him. He remembered finally feeling like he had a friend other than Jemma, and then finding out the whole thing was a ploy. The crushing feeling, and the burning anger._ And Jemma._ "You," He hissed. "YOU!"

Fitz suddenly threw himself at Ward, slamming his good arm into him. Ward stumbled back a few steps, surprised. "Fitz?" Without hesitation, Fitz punched him across the face. It wasn't a strong hit, he was weak and had only one hand available. But it felt _good._ Fitz glared, screaming. "You tried to kill us!"

Ward's face was more surprised than anything else. "Yeah, I think we already covered this!"

"I remember now, you bastard! I remember!" His voice had an edge he probably hadn't used in a long time. "I wanted to give you a second chance, I wanted you to be good! I was the _only_ one who stuck up for you, after you pretended to be my friend!" Everything was spilling out, and loudly. "How could I be so stupid?!"

Ward tried to calm him, unwilling to hear it all again. "Fitz, we need to-"

"No, you tried to kill me!" Fitz shouted. "You owe me at least one honest conversation," He screamed, "because goodness knows nothing before you _dropped me into the ocean_ was!"

"Alright, alright!" Ward put his hands up. Finally there was quiet, if only for a moment as the two caught their breath. He looked past Fitz for a moment, and waved away what Fitz assumed had been a guard coming to check on the noise. His tone dropped. "We can talk."

"How… how could you?!" His volume was normal again, but his face was a mix of anger and pain at remembering the betrayal all over again. It was tying his stomach in knots. "You tried to kill me, you tried to kill Jemma!" _Jemma._ The thought hit him especially hard._ Why do I feel so strongly about him hurting Jemma?_

"I didn't-" Grant's expression weakened.

"How could you?!" He yelled.

"I didn't want to!" His voice finally matched Fitz's volume, and he glared. "You were my friend, you think I wanted to kill you? You think it was easy?! I was under orders!"

"Oh yeah, like that's an excuse!" He gave Ward a disgusted look. "And sure, I could really tell you cared when you dropped us to our death!"

"I did!" Ward stopped for a while, breathing. Fitz's eyes widened as Ward's expression softened. "I did."

"Why?" He asked bluntly.

"I don't know," He folded his arms, giving Fitz a sympathetic look. "I just… Honestly?" He paused, as if Fitz would jump in and say he didn't have to keep going, but Fitz's gaze hadn't lessened. He shrugged "I liked you guys. I tried to distance myself, but… I wasn't _entirely _successful. I cared." He looked down, as if saying it to someone else. "It was a weakness."

"Oh yeah?" Fitz tried to stay strong, despite wanting to believe Ward. He'd been played by him before. "And I'm expected to believe that?"

"Yes," Now Ward shoved him gently, becoming frustrated. "Because I knew I couldn't pull the trigger myself. I've killed plenty, so if that doesn't prove it, I don't know what will." He narrowed his eyes. "And you wanna know what else? I was _glad_ you two ran in there, because I wasn't sure…" He looked down, his voice suddenly breaking. "I wasn't sure I could do it myself."

Fitz's anger slowly changed into disgust and sadness. "I thought you were my friend."

"I was." He gave him an earnest look. "It just… couldn't stay that way." He lowered himself down onto the bench.

"I didn't have many friends, ya'know!" He yelled. "I remember… I remember thinking you were really great, cuz you were the first actual friend I made after Simmons. Or…" He realized the others he'd met had claimed to be his friends, and he couldn't remember when he met them. "…First guy friend, anyway."

Ward narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? And what, you think you're the only one without many friends?" He glared, standing up. "How friendly do you think other Hydra members are? And how many friends does a specialist make when he's secretly Hydra and doesn't want to get close to anyone? You think you were the only lonely sole on that plane?!"

"Oh, don't try and make me pity you!" He gave him a look of disgust, un-injured hand raised. "You tried to kill me!"

"And I didn't want to!" Ward shouted, emphasizing each word. "And I…" His tone lowered quickly. "I'm sorry I did it. But if you think any of this will make me turn myself in, you have another thing coming."

"No, I just…" He looked down. "I didn't know we really were important to each other." He looked at Ward. "Our first real friends," He let out a breath with a sad smile, and for a moment, Ward returned it. "And I wanted to know if you cared at all. I wanted to know if I was wrong." He pursed his lips, worried he might start to tear up. "Because after you turned on us, I was the only person on the team who thought you could still have a shred of goodness in you." He sounded broken. "And you tried to kill me."

Ward let out a long breath. "Yeah, well… I guess you were wrong."

Fitz stared at him for a long moment then. Considering everything, considering if there was any possibility for goodness in him. "Maybe. I guess we'll find out."

Fitz went for the door handle. The thought struck him as he headed for the cargo bay, that this could be the last time he saw Ward, at least for a long time. And even after everything, that somehow bothered him. He let out a sigh. He wasn't sure if it was losing someone who used to be a friend, or the fact that somehow, he still wanted Ward to be good. Maybe he just missed the days when he could hang out with Ward on the plane and consider him a friend, completely ignorant to any acting he might've been doing. Or maybe it was the fact that he was leaving the only person he could actually remember. The only person who actually tied him to his past and could help him remember more. He shot a quick glance at the man, his expression unreadable as he kept his eyes forward. He didn't feel safe around him, but then again, he wasn't sure where he did feel safe. All he knew, was that it was time to go. That he would have a long talk with Coulson on the flight.

And that, despite the strange nostalgia and bitterness washing over him, this was was how it had to be.


End file.
